Phase 01
by DarkElements10
Summary: Peter has a routine; wake up, go to school, stop some bad guys, go home and do it again. But he could use some help. That's where Brady Nash comes in. He's new to New York but not so new to the superhero game. He teams up with Peter to determine why their science teacher, Mr. Warren, is obsessing over Aunt May, their DNA, and how he's such a real life Jackal and Hyde. {Homecoming}.
1. Chapter 1: There's No 'The' In Team

**Phase 01**

 **By: Riley**

 **Summary** \- Peter has a routine; wake up, go to school, stop some bad guys, then go home to do it again. But he could use some help. That's where Brady Nash comes in. Brady is new to New York but not so new to the superhero game. He teams up with Peter to determine why their science teacher, Mr. Warren, is obsessing over Aunt May, their DNA, and how he's such a real life Jackal and Hyde. {Homecoming Verse}

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Peter Parker didn't like to brag, but he was getting good at this Spider-Man thing. As it was, he looked over New York city from the roof of his apartment building upside down…easily balancing on one hand…a heavy school textbook held in the other. He hummed to himself, classic rock playing from the earbuds that dangled in his ears, phone hanging out the pocket of his jeans.

It started to slide, further and further. He paid no mind to it. It wasn't in any danger, really. So much so that as it finally slid out and fell towards the concrete of the roof, Peter waited until the last second before catching it with a web and flung it upwards. Too hard. His phone arched through the air, over his head.

"Woops." Peter flipped to his feet and shot out another web. This time it struck the front of his phone, nabbing it gently. The music quickly shifted to R Kelly's _I Believe I Can Fly_ as it zipped to Peter's hand. "Very funny."

He shook off the webbing and shuffled back through his songs, looking for something else that'd hold his attention. His eyes drifted to the textbook in his other hand and sighed. School. The only thing he couldn't seem to get the hang of. It was bad enough he had to dump all his extracurriculars, things he actually enjoyed, but it was his responsibility.

If New York was in trouble, he'd be there to help. It was like Mr. Stark said, he had to be a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Besides, how else was he going to get better if he didn't get some experience. He'd fought against Captain America and won, right?

Okay, well, would have won had he not needed to hold a massive truck over his head. Or…? Peter started to frown. Had Captain America _let_ him think he was winning? Was he really not able to go toe to toe with the hero and come out with a win? Peter pursed his lips, mind shuttling over every possible outcome of their fight. He would've won, wouldn't he?

At that exact moment, Peter's phone stated to ring, showing Ned's contact picture; a bright smile and a thumb's up in front of a—newly—completed LEGO Deathstar. "Hey Ned," Peter said when he answered. "Quick question, do you think I'd be able to beat Captain America in a fight? I'd beat him, right?" He started to pace, pressing his phone to his ear.

"Beat _him?"_ Ned repeated.

"Yeah."

"Captain America?"

"Yeah. I-I stole his shield."

"And he beat you with it. Captain America is a super-soldier, do you really think you'd be able to handle that? Even with your super cool spidey-sense thing. No, just, no—"

"—Okay, but what if I webbed his hands together and then—"

"—Super- _soldier._ Okay, maybe if you had the element of surprise I could probably say—no, I still think—you know, this isn't why I called you?"

Peter grinned. "Okay, what do you call me for?"

"Now, I don't remember. Because we're talking about Captain America, here. The Avengers. You're not part of them yet but you're going to be. So we need to think, realistically, who you have the possibilities of being able to beat in a fight. Say, one hundred duck sized Captain Americas or—okay, you know what? That's not the best way to think about it. What about Black Widow?"

Peter blanched. "I can't hit a girl!"

"You know at some point, at some point, you'll have to get over that. Equal opportunity."

"Huh."

"Women can be criminals, Peter. Not that Black Widow's a criminal, well, she kind of is, but you get my point."

"Yeah, Ned, I get your point," Peter agreed. "But do you really think I'll actually need to fight her? She's a freaking Assassin, man! Falcon, I could maybe handle, Hawkeye would be so dope to meet, and of course Thor and the Hulk—"

"You think you can beat the Hulk?"

"No, I want to _meet_ The Hulk!"

"Okay, okay, I can see that. But you're right. If you can't handle walking and thinking about Liz at the same time, I can't even imagine what'll happen when you come face to face with Black Widow? Hey, _did_ you—I mean—do you?"

Peter waited.

Ned's voice lowered to a longing whisper. "Does she smell good?"

Peter's lips pulled back into an amused smile. "Ned—"

"—I mean, I know leather doesn't really breathe, but she has to smell good, right?"

Peter started to respond. He was immediately distracted by the hairs on his arms standing straight up. Then he got that feeling. His spidey-sense. All the warning signals in his body going off at once. Something was happening. Something was coming. And it was headed right for him. Awesome, finally something to do. Studying could wait.

"Ned, I've got to go," Peter hissed. "Something's coming."

"A heist? An ATM robbery? A car jacking?" Ned rattled off. Peter could practically feel the excitement in his voice. "What is it?"

"I don't know, but I'll call you back."

"You better record it."

"Why?"

"I'm your 'Guy in the Chair', remember? I need to know what's going on so that I can help you in later battles."

"Bye, Ned."

Peter hung up his phone and returned it to his pocket. He glanced to the side of the rooftop and web-slung his backpack towards him. His spidey-sense had given him enough time to get into his suit, thankfully. He really had to find a way to get into his suit faster than stripping down to his underwear in the middle of the day. Nevertheless, he quickly got into his suit and flipped around just as the door to the roof access burst open allowing seven masked guys to race onto the rooftop.

They all shouted, brandishing their bags full of money. So preoccupied they didn't notice Peter standing nearby. Peter watched them. The eyes on his suit narrowed and widened, taking in the situation.

Finally, Peter lifted his hand and greeted a friendly, "Hey."

Startled, the seven men turned to him, all brandishing weapons. A few had guns, a few had baseball bats, another had a long knife. All were pointed menacingly towards Peter. "You know there's no way off this roof, right?" He shrugged, walking towards the criminals. "Unless you want a hand down?"

He sighed, hearing the safety mechanism click off the guns. "You know, you'd think by now you guys would learn to take the safety off _before_ waving your weapons around." Peter took a step forward and a rain of bullets shot toward him.

Peter bent back and forth, shifting his body weight a miniscule amount to evade each one. The eyes on his suit narrowed menacingly. The smoke cleared. "Okay, I guess you want to learn the hard way."

With that, the criminals all raced toward him, dropping their bags of money as they did so. Peter web-slung one bag toward him and swung his arm in a wide arc. The bag of money shot around nailed one of the criminals directly in the face, shooting dollars into the air.

"Oh yeah!" Peter cried as the dollars drifted to the ground. "Making it rain!" He ducked out of the way of a bat seconds away from denting the side of his head. "Oh, okay. I get it." He webslung a knot onto the bat holder's ankle and pulled hard, flipping him to the ground. "You don't like it when it's _your_ money that's being messed with."

He flipped backwards, sensing footsteps behind him. The criminal that charged him stumbled forward, crashing onto his stomach on the ground. His knife skittered across the roof. During his flip, Peter twisted himself in the air and landed on the shoulders of another in a low crouch. He leant over into the man's face.

"Peek-a-boo!"

The man cried out and started to swing wildly. Peter hung on to his shoulders, cheering and waving a hand overhead. "Ride em', cowboy! Yee-haw!" Finally, he flipped off and scissor-kicked him in the face.

Only to be rewarded with a hard blow upside his head. Everything started to hum around him, his vision swayed. Peter stumbled and turned, finding he'd been smacked with a metal bar. And that same metal bar was coming down on his head once more, before being crushed into his chest. Peter fell to his back and the criminal stood over him, pressing the bar to Peter's neck, closing off his airways.

 _Crap._

Peter brought up his hands, worked to push the bar off him, but found he didn't have a lot of strength. Air was important. His body wasn't letting him get any. He needed to breathe. A gagging sound escaped his throat. Every time he swallowed, he could feel his Adam's apple struggling to bob.

Peter grunted as the metal bar pressed tighter against his throat. His back bent painfully over the edge of the roof. His feet scrambled for footing on the smooth tiling of the roof. His head slowly inched further and further over the side.

Then, something amazing happened. Even more amazing than when Tony Stark or Happy answered one of his calls. Someone dressed in a cloak slid up through the roof of the apartment building.

Slid up.

Through. The. Roof.

And the second his feet landed solidly on the concrete, the person pulled back their arm—it took Peter a second to realize they were holding a slingshot—and released some sort of ammo to the rooftop. In a second, a blinding light filled the rooftop, making Peter close his eyes and turn his head away. A scream erupted from above him, the man that had been holding him down was blinded by the light, unable to protect himself with the speed of the newcomer's arrival.

Peter used the opportunity to shove the man and the bar off from his throat and flipped back to his feet and stared. Stared when he saw the newcomer was as extraordinary as Peter was. Case in point, every time one of the criminals shot at him, stabbed him, swung a bat or pipe at him, the newcomer would barely flinch. And the offending object would slide right through him. So much so that he even phased—it was the best way to explain it—through one of the criminals, he turned around and grabbed the back of his hood, hefting him to the ground.

As he whipped around again, he threw something from his hand that wrapped around another criminal's neck. It took another second for Peter to realize it was a yo-yo. Upon a closer look, aided from Karen—it wasn't an ordinary yo-yo. It was made from a very strong metal, and an even stronger tether spooled inside. And…hidden compartments that sheathed blades?

"Cool," Peter whispered.

" _Initiating cooling procedure,"_ Karen's voice stated.

"What? No!" Peter didn't speak fast enough. Before he could stop her, Karen sent shots of icy cold air through Peter's suit, making him jump and squeal in surprise. "Cool off! Cool off!" He slapped at his chest and back to shake off the pins and needles.

When Peter regained feeling in his extremities, he twisted around. Peter thrust out his hands, shooting out a long, stretching web at the criminals. It wrapped around and gathered them all together. At the same time the newcomer laced his slingshot with more ammo. He drew back his arm and released it in the blink of an eye. He let go, a piece of ammo shot out and stuck to the front of the web prison the criminal was stuck in.

A crackling filled the air and a jolt of electricity shot through the criminal at the front, making a gurgling sound erupt from his mouth.

He swayed back and forth, finally collapsing to the ground when the newcomer pressed the forks of the slingshot together—fusing together to form a long bow staff—and swept his legs from beneath him. With a scream, the group fell off the roof. The web stringing them together stretched and left them a bobbing, wiggling mass over the side of the apartment building.

"I thought what I could was cool but, that—man, that was—wow, it was so amazing!" Peter cried once they were alone.

"You kidding? Being able to meet _the_ Spider-Man?" The boy replied with a grin. " _That's_ what's amazing."

"It's just, Spider-Man," Peter corrected. "No 'the' in front of it."

"Sorry, dude."

"No problems." Peter waved his hands. "Thanks for that. It was all a big help. How'd you do that by the way? How…you know the…" he made a gesture with his hands, wiggling his fingers. "They just went right through you!"

The newcomer's smile was barely visible beneath his hood. "It's my power," he explained. "I can phase." To prove his point, he reached out and stuck his hand through Peter's stomach. Peter jumped back in surprise. Okay, now they had that out of the way, how'd he know to come help? Peter asked as much. "Well, it looked like you needed some help, Peter."

Peter's blood ran cold. "What?" His voice came out high-pitched and squeaky, the same way it always did when he was caught off-guard. "Peter? I, uh, I—" he cleared his throat and lowered his voice. Combined with the sudden voice modulator Karen put on, Peter's voice sounded demonic as he said, "I don't-I don't know a Peter. I'm—" He dropped his voice to an even lower, gravely tone. "I'm Spider-Man."

"You sure you're not Batman?" The newcomer joked.

"Really? You think I'm as good as Batman?" Peter practically squealed. Then, realizing his mistake, he cleared his throat and puffed out his chest, trying to look as intimidating as possible. "I mean—"

The newcomer tilted his head to the side. "Dude, we share a fire escape." He jerked with his thumb behind him to the apartment building that sat nestled close to Peter's. "If anyone had the sense to look up every once in a while, your secret identity wouldn't be such a secret." He reached up and pushed off his hood.

Peter stared. He recognized the teen boy in front of him. A classmate from school. A new classmate, he'd only just joined at the beginning of the week. Peter'd barely seen him, he knew experience how long it took get situated within the magnet school, especially for nerds like himself. But Peter knew his name.

Brady.

And that he'd just moved from Missouri. And that he'd moved into the apartment building next door a few weeks back. He remembered watching from the roof as he and his mother moved in, glad to finally have someone close to his age that lived in the building. Not that his neighbors weren't cool, Mrs. Decani really knew how to kick his ass at chess. But hanging out with people his own age was infinitely better. Especially when those people weren't calling him 'Penis Parker'.

"You might want to think about that, by the way." Brady lifted an eyebrow, his smile widening. "I thought I heard something, looked out my window and saw these guys on the roof." He gestured with toward the space of the roof with his his hand, then folded his arms. He jerked his head behind him. "I was just hanging around, waiting for my mom to get back."

"Oh, so you live next door," Peter remarked. His suit eyes widened at the same time his own did. In panic. "Not that I'd know that. Not that I live here or anything, you know, 'cause—cause I'm Spider-Man. Not these Peter you speak of. Why would I—no. I, uh, I've got my own lair."

"Stark Tower, right?"

"No, that's been bought." But, hopefully, a place was waiting for him at the Avengers compound. When he was added to the team, anyway. That reminded him, he needed to see if Happy or Mr. Stark returned any of his calls yet.

"Bummer." Brady frowned.

"I know. It's so cool. Mr. Stark—"

" _Initiating cooling procedure!"_

"No!"

Peter squealed, jumping back and forth along the roof, trying in vain to get away from the icy shots raining against his body. Finally, he couldn't stand it and ripped off his mask. Icicles hung from Peter's fringe, clumps of hair stuck together. It already started to melt against the heat of the New York day, droplets slid into his eyes. Peter sucked in deep breaths, tilting his face to warm in the sun. "Karen," he breathed. "We need to remove that cooling procedure."

" _Would you like me to remove the heating procedure as well?"_

"No. No…let's keep that." Peter sighed down at the mask in his hands, then turned to face Brady, knowing he was unable to keep the jig up any longer. So it was one more person who knew who he was, one less person to worry about. He was sure Mr. Stark wouldn't feel the same way. "I'm Peter," he introduced himself lamely. "Peter Parker." He lifted his hands and slapped them back to his sides. "I'm Spider-Man."

Brady turned a friendly grin back to Peter. "Brady Nash. But my friends call me Shadowhunter."

* * *

 **A/N:** My first attempt at writing a Spider-Man fic. Actually, my first serious attempt at Marvel fanfic after doing my Captain America/Avengers one-shots _On Your Right_ and _Computer Fans._ I had just finished watching _Avengers: Infinity War_ and got this idea...that has been sitting on my computer for months now before I decided to try writing.

So, If anyone reads my Flash stories, they'd recognize Brady Nash and his mother Cadence. I've extended them to being comic book OCs rather than just DC ones. In that vein this is, sort of, a DC/Marvel crossover.

Anyway, I hope you guys liked it.

 **Cheers,**

 **-Riley**


	2. Chapter 2: New York's Finest

**Chapter Two**

* * *

"So, what's Central City like?" Peter asked. He glanced at Brady before taking a large bite of the watermelon in his hands. He worked the seeds around in his mouth, storing them in his cheek. Then, when he finished the fruit, he leaned forward, sucked back a sharp breath, and spat as hard as he could.

The watermelon seeds rocketed from his mouth and arched over 15th street to the sidewalk below, where the others had fallen. Peter grimaced, ducking his head back when one seed managed to bounce off a balding man's head and fall harmlessly away. A fall that far wouldn't have caused any injuries, but it certainly had to be unnerving to find a saliva covered piece of fruit had struck you out of nowhere.

Brady chuckled when Peter lifted a hand in an apologetic wave. He took a bite of his watermelon then said with a shrug, "You've been to one Midwestern city, you've been to them all."

"I've never been outside of Brooklyn," Peter said. He paused. "Well, there was this one trip to Germany but…" he trailed off, shaking his head. He could explain that later. It wasn't every day he managed to meet someone else his age who had extraordinary powers. Captain America, Iron Man, Black Widow…they were all cool to meet. It was like a dream come true, if his high-pitched embarrassingly squealy voice on his videos weren't proof enough.

But to have someone his own age know what it was like about…everything. That was different. That was major.

Peter had always bene a bit of a loner. Even more so after his Uncle Ben died. There were too many people that came up and gave their condolences, however _that_ was supposed to help. Hey, I'm so sorry your [insert relative here] died. Oh! Did you want to gout for lunch? It was funny how the world seemed to be completely shattered and stop on a dime when someone managed to pass away but everyone else moved on as if nothing catastrophic had just happened. Ned as much as he tried, even pulled away a little, working hard to give Peter the space he needed.

And when a good amount of time passed, they were as thick as thieves again…and completely invisible to everyone in the student body. The powers Peter received made him feel stronger than ever, but nothing could make anyone strong enough to handle high school when you were a nerd and picked on every day. As comfortable as he was in his own skin…Peter was still human.

Even if, at one point, he _did_ have the Winter Soldier trying to kill him.

"Wait until you see the footage," Ned agreed. "It's the best video you could ever see. Oscar worthy, even."

"Well, I don't know about that."

Brady smiled. "What are you going to do with the footage?"

Peter's shoulders slumped, his body concaved, threatening to fold in on itself. He rubbed his neck, pushing his fingertips into his pressure points, hoping to ease the sudden pain that formed from his muscles tensing. "Nothing. Mr. Stark doesn't want it getting out."

His response earned him a lifted eyebrow from Brady. "But you still filmed it?"

"I mean, yeah, well, it's for—"

"—Posterity!" Ned broke in.

"—Right, for posterity. And, uh, you know, proof of what happened if something were to happen to me." Peter waved a hand. "Not like anything could happen to me, I mean, my powers are amazing—"

"—He'd got this Spidey-Sense—"

"—I thought we were calling it the Spider-Sense," Peter broke in.

Ned look at him as if he were crazy. "No, dude, Spider-Sense is just too technical. Too on the nose. Spidey-Sense is so much cooler. It brings a sort of mystery, a sort of intrigue to the whole thing." He brought his fingers to his lips and kissed them as if he was putting the finishing touches on an Italian dinner. "The cherry on top of the spider-cake if you will." Peter and Brady both recoiled at the image of a thousand squirming, crawling spiders swarming all over a cake. They looked at each other and started to laugh, making Ned fold his arm and roll his eyes, knowing they were laughing at him. "You just can't see my creative vision."

"We can see it just fine, dude," Brady replied. "I think that's the problem."

Peter smiled and nodded. He nudged Brady's arm and said, "Come on, you have to give us more than that. Tell us about Central City, about your life there."

Brady's eyebrows twitched upwards, his smile stilting for a second. "Like I said, you've been to one midwestern city, you've been to them all. Metropolis is like New York, Smallville is every farming community you could ever see, and Central City is…" he trailed off, eyes searching the skyline as if it held the answers to everything. "New York adjacent. Except all the metahuman attacks, anyway."

"Metahumans?"

Peter frowned. He'd opened his mouth to ask, but it certainly wasn't his voice that'd come out. He looked to Ned over his shoulder, his head jerking back in surprise when he saw how close Ned's face was to his—an expression of overwhelming excitement on his face. Ned turned his smile to Peter, then, realizing how close they were, sat back.

"Sorry," Ned apologized. "Got a little excited there."

"We call everyone who can do the impossible metahumans," Brady explained. He wiped watermelon juice off his chin with his wrist. "Someone with superpowers," he explained. "Or else that would include everyone who's, like, a genius at computers."

Peter reached out and patted Ned on the cheek. "Looks like you don't have that new nickname yet."

"Guy-in-the-chair isn't too bad," Ned defended himself.

"Metahuman," Peter repeated, rolling the word around in his mouth. "Does that mean I'm a metahuman, too?"

"Well, unless you got hit with a wave of dark matter from a particle accelerator explosion, then, I don't think so." Brady looked away for a moment, frowning at the bright sunlight that cast over then, the sun slowly dipping over the horizon. "That's what gave me my powers, the particle accelerator explosion."

Peter's eyebrows came together. He remembered reading about it in the newspaper once, before Aunt May had ripped it away from him, before it was all overshadowed by Tony Stark's declaration of war against the Mandarin. At the time, Peter wondered why Aunt May would try to shield him from things like that, try to keep him from anything to do with Tony Stark and Iron Man and Captain America and the…Peter swallowed hard.

And the alien attack on New York.

He was young, he reminded himself, he wanted to help in some way and Aunt May was just worried about him. Overprotective. He was the only family she had left. =So she became a little protective and pushed him back at every turn of being exposed to 'that sort of thing' turn until he didn't have a choice. All until he'd gotten bitten by that radioactive spider and…it was like his whole life started over.

He gained everything that made him feel life was worth living, but having to keep it a secret, he may as well as still been invisible.

"I got bit by a spider," Peter said, nodding slowly. Brady lifted an eyebrow. "A radioactive spider. We were on a field trip, it's a long story. But then I got my powers and…I made a suit and Mr. Stark made me an offer I couldn't refuse and now I'm your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man."

"That's awesome," Brady said, a wide grin coming to his face.

Peter smiled and nodded. He looked to his other side to watch as Ned—who'd demanded the story time and time again so much he could recite it himself—held up his fingers, miming the goal post for flag football, twisting his hands left and right. One side of his face scrunched up in the ill-thought attempt to give himself more clarity, then he leaned forward and spat as hard as he could, watching as watermelon seeds shot through the air.

"Whoa!" Brady cried. His eyes lit up excitedly.

"Nice one!" Peter held up his hand and he and Ned high-fived while Brady laughed.

The three turned back to watch the skyline in front of them, poking out against the rapidly darkening sky. It wasn't going to take too long before Aunt May got back, he was starting to run a bit late to his daily patrol. Not that it was a normal day; how many times had people tried to rob his own apartment building? _Petty criminals,_ Peter thought. A smirk came to his face. If he listened hard enough, he could still hear their muffled screaming from the web on the side of the building.

This time it was Ned to break the silence, asking Brady the question Peter was curious about. "So, your phasing. You can, like, walk through anything?"

"Not _anything_ ," Brady replied. Whether he was telling the truth or trying to be modest, Peter wasn't quite sure. Nevertheless, he listened with rapt attention as Brady said, "Bricks are tricky. Concrete…" he waved his finger back and forth. "I'm iffy about. Especially when it's wet. Metal is easy. The ground is easy. Walls are easy—"

"—Can you walk through people?" Ned interrupted.

Brady nodded. "Phasing through people was weird when I first did it. But I got used to it, _pretty_ quick."

"How long have you had your powers?"

"Uh…" Brady's face screwed up in thought. "Since I was eight or so."

"Can you turn invisible?"

"Yes."

"Can you fly?"

"Yes."

"Can you—"

"—Ned!" Peter interrupted. He quickly ran through the list of questions that Ned had asked him when he first found out about Peter's secret identity. "He can't lay eggs, he can't spit venom, he he can't summon an army of spiders, he doesn't know Captain America." He paused and lifted a finger. "But Captain America is very cool."

Brady shrugged. "Flash is better." Peter and Ned looked at him in confusion.

"You think Flash _Thompson_ is better than Captain America?" Ned repeated.

Not it was Brady's turn to screw his face up in confusion. "No! Flash as in _The Flash_." He thought for a moment. "Flash Thompson? That…" he wiggled his fingers. "That prick from school? Why would I think he's—" he paused. "You've never heard of The Flash?" Peter and Ned shook their heads. A smirk pulled at Brady's lips. "Wow, you've never heard of the Flash. That's funny."

"Is that another metahuman?"

"He's a speedster, the fastest man alive. He protects Central City along the rest of his team."

"Did you fight with him, too? Were you part of his team? How many villains did you stop? How do you manage to balance it all?" Brady laughed when Peter shot a glare towards Ned once more. "Well, if I can't ask _you_ questions, how come I can't ask him?"

"I used to fight with him," Brady explained. "But, now I'm here." He opened his arms and spread them along the city. "So, it doesn't look like I'll be fighting with him again anytime soon." His voice turned dry at the end, almost antagonistic as his eyes flashed. Brady grabbed the empty watermelon rind and whipped it to the ground.

An awkward silence stretched between the three. Peter twisted his fingers, unsure of what to say. Clearly something had happened to make them move, or else something had happened with this Flash. Nevertheless, Brady didn't seem to be too happy with it. "So…why New York?"

At that, Brady sighed heavily. "My mom and step-dad have some things they need to work through, and my mom got a job offer she couldn't refuse." He paused. "New York doesn't seem that bad, though." He grinned at Peter and Ned. "Didn't expect to make some friends so easily. I didn't think I'd meet Spider-Man either. You know, you're a lot shorter in person."

Peter's bravado instantly fell as Brady laughed. "Ha ha." His head whipped to the side when there was a sound of an explosion that rocked through the neighborhood. An explosion so loud that Peter felt it through the concrete as he scrambled to his feet, following the source of the sound. He could see his neighbors open their windows and poke their heads out to see as well.

"Looks like it's coming from downtown," Ned murmured, pointing towards a plume of smoke curling up toward the sky, an orange hue glowing at the base of the cloud. He repeatedly nudged Peter in the side, almost knocking him over. "You better go check it out."

"Yeah, I probably should," Peter agreed, trying to sound calm while all on the inside he was sure spiders were swarming around. Two opportunities to be a hero in one day?! After a dry spell, the thought of one alone made the day feel like Christmas. "What do you think?" He turned to Brady, a smile slowly forming on his face. "Want to see what heroics New York has to offer?"

Brady grinned back. "Let's see what you've got."

* * *

 **A/N:** Don't worry, there's not too much of a crossover in this one, just needed to set up some things for Brady's backstory. Anyway, thanks for the favorites and alerts from the first chapter. I hope to have another update a lot sooner than it took for this one to be posted.

 **Cheers,**

 **-Riley**


	3. Chapter 3: Ned's Big Mouth

**Chapter Three**

* * *

"So you use the cover of the 'Stark Internship' to keep going with this whole Spider-Man thing," Brady said, nodding slowly as he walked beside Peter and Ned. Peter shifted his backpack up his back, side stepping a large crack in the sidewalk as they headed to school. The straps of his backpack dug into his shoulders . That's what he got for losing his fifth backpack in a few weeks. It was the last time he'd use his webs to attach it to a dumpster, too. "That's smart, actually. _Really_ smart." He ran a hand through his hair. "Wish I thought of that."

"Well, Mr. Stark came up with it," Peter said. But he couldn't help but add, "I mean, I suggested it, but Mr. Stark ran with it." He glanced over his shoulder, hoping it wasn't the time Tony Stark and Happy didn't suddenly arrive and decide to give him his next mission. He continued to look around as he spoke. "What did you say to get out of things when you had to go fight?"

Brady grimaced. "Nothing. Most of the time I'd say I was sick, or I'd use my powers to leave the room or turn invisible, or The Flash would flash me there and back before anyone realized I was gone." He paused. "Makes sense as to why people kept thinking I had some sort of incurable disease, but I'd rather they think that than know the truth."

"So no one in your life knows about you?" Ned asked. He lowered his voice to a comedic whisper, also looking around when he noticed Peter's distress. "How do you keep it a secret? Do you ever get hurt too much? Did you have to skip school for it? How do you manage doing school at the same time?"

Peter rolled his eyes as he smiled. Ned's enthusiasm always made it easier to see how cool it was to do what he was doing. It made his worries lessen that much more. Worries about how Aunt May would handle it, especially with what happened to Uncle Ben. Had he let her know he was throwing himself around the city and swinging from webs, she'd pass out. If she didn't have him committed first.

Even as they went to dinner a few weeks before, he had nothing to say but that the Stark Internship was making him tired and he had a lot of school work to do. Aunt May, of course, had mentioned how worried she was about Spider-Man— _The_ Spider—Man—being around and that if anything were to happen if he were in the vicinity, he was to run the other way.

Nevertheless, he couldn't help himself but watch her reaction closely. Aunt May, seriously, absolutely didn't like the idea that he was out there being Spider-Man. Didn't like that the bodega that was attacked, was the one Peter always went to and he was lucky he wasn't there when the attack happened.

And Peter sat back and listened and nodded to everything he was being told. And yet, he couldn't help but feel badly for her. First, she loved her brother-in-law and sister-in-law in a plane crash. Then she was slated to take in a young boy who'd lost his parents in said plane crash and raise him when she hadn't had children herself…couldn't have children. Then she lost her husband and now all…this.

Peter ran a hand over his face, wondering how much longer he could keep things up. How much longer he could make it so that he gave off the appearance that Aunt May didn't have to worry about him when, in actuality, she had every reason to worry about him.

Not to mention, how tiring things were starting to get. As much as the power surge and his abilities were amazing to him, he was still a kid, and trying to keep everything together while working late nights, was starting to take its toll on him and his grades.

He listened closely as Brady replied, "Actually, a couple of people in my life know what I do." He started to count on his fingers. "My friends, my teammates…my mom…"

Peter looked at him in wonder. He couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen if he told Aunt May what was really going on. "Your mom knows about your powers and everything?" He asked.

Brady nodded back. He shrugged. "Kind of hard for her not to know. It'd be a bit hard to explain why I'd suddenly disappear when she's looking for me."

"Right," Ned agreed. "You can turn invisible." He gasped loudly. "Does that mean you can, like, go in and rob a bank and actually get away with it?" Peter smacked him on the arm. "What? You can't tell me that you've never thought of doing it?"

"Or robbing a bank?" Peter blinked rapidly at Ned, pumping the door to the school to go inside. "You really think I've thought about robbing a bank?" Brady grinned at him. Peter pressed his lips together, trying to stop the smile that started to worm over his face. "Okay, I've thought about it. Of robbing a bank. The way I'd do it, how much time I had, how I'd get out—"

"—Ooh, criminal mastermind we got here!" Brady shoved Peter on the shoulder. Had he not had his powers, Peter would've easily been bowled over. Had it been anyone else who had pushed him, Peter would've made them think he was easy to hit. A better way to keep Peter and Spider-Man separate. Not that anyone who looked at him thought he was Spider-Man anyway.

"And yet, he can't seem to use that mastermind of his to make good decisions."

Peter cringed, seeing Michelle "MJ" Jones walk by, her head buried in a book, tossing a snarky comment as she went by them. Of course she'd manage to pop up, right on cue, and say something that'd knock his ego down a peg.

"Oh, that's just MJ," Ned said, noticing Brady's confused expression. "She's…she's just MJ." He nodded toward Peter. "She hates us."

"I don't think she hates us," Peter said quickly. "She doesn't hate us."

"Right." Ned paused. "She hates everyone."

Brady laughed.

Peter still fumbled for his words. "She…no, she doesn't hate everyone…it's just…" he cleared his throat and gestured around the students that milled by with the latest phones and gadgets in hand. "This school can be hard sometimes. If you're not rich, you may as well be nothing. If you're not athletic, if you're not…"

"Mm, so basically every school in existence, got it." Brady side-stepped a crowd of students that started to fill the hallway. His eyes roved around the large hallways with wall mounted TVs and intricate security systems. "It all seems pretty high tech. Definitely not like my school at all."

"You mean you didn't have any metal detectors and student IDs?" Peter asked.

It had been a shock to him, too, when he first started at the magnet school after having transferred from his previous public school. It shocked him even further how much more…challenged he was in his classes. Not to say things were too easy for his previous classmates, but finding more likeminded people, who didn't look at him as if he were a freak due to his enthusiasm for school.

" _Meta-_ detectors, maybe," Brady said. He sighed, seeing the confused expressions on Peter's and Ned's faces. Peter tried to wrap his head around it. A simple word play. Meta-detector. Brady was a metahuman, and the detector was probably used to make it so that they were able to determine who were metahumans in the school. "Things in Central City are getting bad for metas, it's also partially why we left. People were getting too close to figuring out my secret and there were so many kids from my school who were being taken away by police or just disappearing because they were metas." He sniffed. "Worst part is, it was the technology from STAR Labs that helped them do it."

"So, how'd you keep going to school if they had the detectors there?" Peter could hardly imagine how he'd try to hide his abilities if there was a way for it to be found out. Maybe create some sort of a solution over his hands to alter his DNA? Web sling a shot of webbing into the mechanics of the machine to make sure it didn't work as well as it should?

"Lots of different excuses," Brady said. "It took a while for the tech to be put up, so by the time it became a serious thing, they pulled me out. Besides, by that point the student body had gone down enough with all the attacks on school."

"Something like that happened at another High School here," Ned said excitedly. He started to rapid-fire his words. "There was this guy who turned into a lizard and destroyed the science labs and other classrooms and some lockers. Some students got hurt. It was a huge deal."

"Wow, what happened?"

"I don't know. It's all hush-hush and litigations, paper work…" Ned waved it off. "But it was so cool to hear!"

Peter shook his head and mimed spinning a finger beside his head, making Ned shove him. That time, he allowed his feet to slip aside, making it appear Ned had done some damage to him. Ned could be overzealous at times, and ask a lot of questions, and be a bit of a pest, but he was Peter's best friend. The first—and arguably only—friend he'd made when he moved. They were a bit of losers, compared to the rest of the student body. But Ned was with him for everything. He understood Peter's depression after learning about Uncle Ben, giving Peter space when the time called for it, making him laugh at other times, and helped him through navigating the new school.

He didn't make fun of or alienate Peter due to his smarts and when finding out the two shared interest in Star Wars, it finally brought Peter out of his shell. They'd been tight ever since and, honestly, Peter didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have Ned around.

He was much of a hype man for the little things than he was for everything else, though it could sometimes be a bit misguided. (Peter did think it was kind of exciting to hear about the lizard attack, though made sure to promise Aunt May if something did happen at his school he'd steer clear. How ironic that that same lecture was coming back now, when he was, generally, the cause of the trouble).

The bell rang and Peter and Ned sighed and started heading off in the direction of their first class. Brady opened his stride to keep up with them. "Don't look so down, guys," he said with a grin. "It's just gym."

Peter sighed inwardly. Just gym. He used to be able to say that. That he was the class where, before getting his Spidey powers, he dreaded. He hated how scrawny he was compared to the others, how unathletic he was in comparison, where it seemed like it was another reminder that he wasn't a man and didn't have a man in his life. He was picked on relentlessly.

Gym class was better now, people didn't pay too much attention to him. And Peter had a sense of satisfaction with knowing he could do what he needed to get a passing grade, and would pass with flying colors if he could show off his new abilities. Nevertheless, the only downside of the class was—

"—Hurry up, Penis!" A hard shove knocked Peter's shoulder. Peter briefly closed his eyes, steadying himself, before he opened them again to find Flash Thompson call over his shoulder, "Can't wait to use you as target practice today!" He cupped his hands over his crotch before laughing and continuing to the gym.

Peter twisted his mouth to the side.

 _The day just started,_ he reminded himself. _It can't get any worse._

* * *

"Hi, I'm Captain America."

Peter groaned.

 _It just got worse._

He watched as an older version—was that even possible—of Captain America sat on the TV screen that Coach Wilson stood sullenly beside. "Whether you're in the classroom or on the field, physical fitness can mean the difference between success or failure. Today, my good friend,"—Peter smirked, seeing the image of Captain America gesture to the side of the TV where Coach Wilson _wasn't_ standing—"The gym teacher, will be conducting the Captain America fitness challenge."

Peter couldn't help but let his smirk widen, thinking about how surprised Captain America had looked when Peter had flipped out of nowhere and stole the Vibranium shield. He rested his chin in his hand, looking around the stands filled with his classmates. Behind him, Peter could see when he gently turned his head, MJ had her head buried in a book, below him, Flash sat with his croney friends, and then…Peter sucked in a deep breath, Llz Toomey sat towards the bottom of the bleachers, watching intently, chin in hand.

Whatever was the rest that Captain America was saying, Peter didn't hear it, all sound blocking out as he watched Liz. Watched as she tucked a strand of hair over her ear, smiled and leaned into her friend as she whispered something to her, and giggled quietly. Liz flipped her hair over her shoulder and looked toward Peter, making him quickly look away, his face turning red.

Not like Liz had any interested in him anyway, Peter thought. _Maybe if she ever knew you were Spider-Man…_

"Thank you, Captain." Coach Wilson's dry voice caught Peter's attention, making him snap back. Coach Wilson lifted his whistle to his lips. "Pretty sure this guy is a war criminal now but whatever, these videos are required by the state. Okay, let's get it over with." He gave a sharp blast of the whistle, prompting the students to clamber down the bleachers to the gym floor.

"I didn't think schools still did this thing," Brady grumbled as he walked along with Peter and Ned to mats that had been set up for some of the students to do sit ups while others waited their turns or climbed up ropes.

"It's part of what they sell you with this being a magnet school," MJ murmured as she walked by, her nose still buried in her book. "It's a joke, just like everything else."

Peter looked at her. "Are you listening to our conversation?"

MJ stopped and looked at him, her eyebrows raising. "Am I?" She asked before sticking her nose back in her book and walking away.

Peter looked to Ned, who shrugged in confusion then got down on the mats to do his part of the fitness test. Peter knelt by his legs to hold him still, hardly having to hold him with one hand as he did so. Then Brady took his turn and Peter got on the mat next. He crossed his arms over his chest and heaved himself up and down, making it appear he was struggling when he knew he could've done hundreds of them without breaking a sweat. He couldn't be like Brady just yet, who was obviously more comfortable with his enhanced physique due to his powers than Peter was.

Peter focused his gaze on the ceiling, listening as Brady and Ned conversed about Captain America, glad that Ned was able to field the questions of the super soldier, so Peter wouldn't have to once more. Around him, he could hear snippets of conversations as his classmates went through the paces of their tests.

"Looking good, Parker," Coach Wilson congratulated him as he walked by, nose shoved into his clipboard. Startled, Peter looked up at him and gave an awkward smile. It was the next thing he heard that immediately made him freeze mid-crunch.

"Well, what about the Spider-Man?"

"It's just spider-man," Liz quickly corrected her friend. Peter locked eyes with Ned for a second then whirled around to watch as she talked with her friends. Brady knelt nearby, smiling quietly. "And did you see the security footage on YouTube? He fought off four guys."

"Oh my God," her girlfriend said with a gasp and a smile. She leaned over Liz and smiled teasingly at the boy sitting next to her. They always hung around Liz, making it harder for Peter to even come close to having a conversation with her without an audience. "She's crushing on spider-man."

"No way!" He replied.

Liz smiled bashfully, hiding her mouth with her hands. Peter felt his heartrate increase as the seconds that passed until she finally said, "Kinda?" framing it as a question. Brady slapped Peter on the knee.

Peter looked to Ned once more, Ned didn't look back at him. He was too busy staring at Liz and her friends.

"Oh gross." The girls' nose wrinkled. "He's gotta be thirty."

"You don't even know what he looks like" the boy added. "What if he's seriously burned."

"I wouldn't care," Liz said defensively. She clasped her hands together. "I'd love him for who he is on the inside."

Peter's heart raced even faster. Much faster than the adrenaline that shot through him when he was bit by the spider. Liz liked him. _Him._ Dorky, Peter Parker who—"

"Peter knows Spider-Man!"

-Who was going to _kill_ Ned.

If looks could do it, he would've killed Ned in seconds. He shifted his wide-eyed gaze to Brady, who looked just as startled, glanced at Liz, looked back at Ned, then scrambled to his feet. "Uh, no I don't," he protested lamely.

"They're friends," Ned continued.

Peter glared at Ned once more, sending as many mental signals for him to shut up as he could. Anything that would, for once, have Ned realize his mother mouth was not helping a situation. It simply got worse when Flash leapt down from where he was climbing a rope and sauntered over to the group. Peter wished he could web sling both of their mouths shut.

"Yeah, like Captain America and Coach Wilson are friends," Flash taunted.

"I don't know, they seem pretty tight to me," Brady joked.

"I've met him," Peter said, gritting his teeth as he answered Flash. He glanced at Liz, who looked at him curiously. Her eyes flickered up and down, as if seeing him for the first time. _Maybe this won't be so bad. Maybe I can save this._ "A few times. Though, uh, through the, that, uh, the Stark Internship. Mhm. Well, _I'm not supposed to talk about it_ ," he hissed out the corner of his mouth to Ned.

"That's awesome," Flash continued to taunt. He stood in front of Peter and folded his arms over his chest. "Maybe you should invite him to Liz's party." He kept his eyes on Peter as the then spoke to Liz, "That'd be okay, right?"

"Yeah," Liz said slowly. She continued to look at Peter closely—he watched her from the corner of his eye—"I'm having a few people over tonight. You should come—"

"—And bring Spider-Man," Flash insisted.

"Um—" Peter gaped like a fish.

Seeming to sense his distress, Liz quickly said, "It's okay, I know Peter's _way_ too busy for parties anyway, so…" She looked away, rubbing at her arm.

Flash shoved Peter on the arm, making Peter stare back at him. Not quite a glare but getting there. Peter didn't like to fight people without just cause, especially if he could easily hurt people if he lost control. "Oh come on, he'll be there." His eyes flashed. "Right Parker?"

Peter had no choice but to shrug and nod, feeling his heart sinking as he did so. _How are you going to get out of this one?_

"Great, I'll be glad to meet your friend." Flash smirked and walked back to the climbing ropes.

Peter sighed and ran his hands through his hair. Brady's face screwed up as he looked at his new friend. "That was smooth," he said. He "Stupid, but smooth."

Peter had to concur. "That wasn't my fault, that was Ned's. If it were me, I'd just sit at home, waiting for the next assignment Mr. Stark has for me. And stop whatever bicycle thief comes along this time."

"And get squashed by a wayward crane," Brady joked.

Peter ignored him, not wanting to think about what had happened when they went off to fight crime the night before. Instead, he lowered his voice to hiss at Ned, "What are you doing?"

"Helping you out," Ned insisted. He gestured towards Liz. "Did you not hear her? Liz has a crush on you. You're an Avenger! If any one of us has a chance with a senior girl, it's you." With another sharp whistle blast, gym class ended.

The boys went to the locker room, showered, changed out of their gym clothes, and headed to their next class. Peter sighed as he dropped into his seat with Ned next to him and Brady taking a space a seat behind them. He folded his arms, resting it on the table in front of him, trying to come up with as many ways he could get out of going to that party.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't notice the ripple effect move through the room. It wasn't until he heard squeaking at the front of the room. Different compared to how Mrs. Warren usually started the class.

The man standing at the board wrote a few figures on the board with the green marker, hands moving quickly, the formulas almost illegible. Peter glanced at Ned then faced forward once more. Finally, the man turned, capping the green marker once more. He looked up as a hand went in the air and pointed to the girl. "Yes?"

"Um, what happened to Miss. Warren?" A girl asked.

"My sister has fallen ill and I'm here to substitute for her." The man turned around, dusting black specks off his hand. He frowned at it, rubbing his fingertips along the green ink that stained his skin, then looked up at the students. He grinned, showing off his slightly longer canines. "So, for the next while, you'll have me. My name is Miles Warren, I'm going to be your science teacher."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for the response so far, guys! I'm really loving what I've got planned and I can't wait to see what you all think of everything. Also, I changed the story a little bit so that the Vulture plot and this Jackal plot is happening at the same time, but with some things happening in different orders to make certain things make more sense.

Hence, the scene in gym class. I may have it where you see the movie play out as well, but so far it's focused on the plot I'm doing.

 **Cheers,**

 **-Riley**


	4. Chapter 4: Peter's Worries

**Chapter Four**

* * *

Peter strolled along the streets, shifting his gaze left and right, scanning the faces of those he passed. Not just the faces, but their body language as well. With all the time he'd spent taking down criminals, he'd learned how to decipher when they were about to whip out a hidden weapon, when they were going into a store to rob someone, or when they were deciding whether who was going to be their victim in whatever attack they had planned.

With his hood pulled up, covering most of his face, Peter was inconspicuous to the outside world. It wasn't strange to him, being almost unforgettable in school made it easier for him to be unforgettable in the real world. That was the way he liked it sometimes. So that he could be Peter Parker, a normal teenage boy, and not have to worry about being 'Spider-Man' all the time. Though his spider-sense was really starting to make his anxiety shoot through the roof.

It was an amazing ability to have in general, knowing when something was about to happen that may injure him. But it was really getting to be annoying when his spider-sense went off when a bug was about to land on him, when someone was about to tap his shoulder to return his wallet he may have dropped, or when there was a change in draft. Of course, that tingling in the back of his skull, the hairs on his arms popping up became stronger when there was a _lot_ of danger, imminent danger.

But he couldn't even begin to think of the many times he woke up in the middle of the night, flinging himself out of bed, ready for an attack—only to smack his forehead into the bottom of the bunk above him and find out it was just a rat that was scurrying through the corner of his room. He would glare at it before turning and faceplanting into his pillow.

Every time it happened after that, Peter would shoot his eyes open, look at the time and roll over to go back to sleep. (Though there was that one time he web-shooted a rat into the wall behind his desk and forgot about it until Aunt May asked about a smell she couldn't quite place in his room. He quickly got her off his back, mentioning he was a growing boy and he needed his space…and he'd be sure to take more showers.

That was probably something he'd need to do anything, considering how many times he had to chase some of the criminals he was after into dump sites, into the sewers, and into the nasty run-off water of treatment plants. Where did these guys come up with the places they wanted to run to? Didn't they get they wouldn't get away from a man who could web shoot them to a wall if he wanted to?

Peter continued to stroll along. Surprisingly, he found himself not in the mood to take on anyone, actively wishing nothing would go on that day. _Maybe I should just let the police handle it for once._ He felt shame come through him as soon as the thought crossed his mind. How ungrateful.

He had these supernatural powers, the ability to help people, and he wanted to give it up for a day. There was always someone out there who needed help, who could probably end up in more danger without his presence than him actually being there. Peter smiled when he spotted a pair of brothers running by him, tightly clutching their backpacks in hand, wearing matching Spider-Man shirts that flapped in the wind as they went by.

A sign maybe.

That it was alright to feel how he was feeling.

It was hard to juggle it all; school, the academic decathlon, being Spider-Man, being Peter Parker, being a nephew, a son, a friend…

Peter reached up and pushed his hood off his head, running a hand through his hair. He looked around, noticing the scenery around him change, seeing the scenery move from the hustle and bustle of the city to the quietness of his neighborhood. He paused outside his apartment building and glanced to the side at the building Brady lived in.

Brady had to stay behind at school to figure out the transferring of his credits from his former school, and Ned was going out to dinner with his family, otherwise, they probably would've figured out what to do about Liz's party and the whole Spider-Man making an appearance thing.

He was going to kill Ned.

Peter hurried up to his apartment, noticing the smell of the dinner his Aunt May was cooking on the stove and felt a stab of guilt in the gut. He should've been there earlier to help her out around the place a little bit. Even with a cursory glance, he could see the clutter that was slowly starting to become a mess. A mess neither of them had much time to deal with; she was busy at work and he was busy being Spider-Man.

"Hey Aunt May," Peter greeted, dropping his backpack down his arm to carefully hang on his chair at the dinner table. He made a show of it, silently letting her know he managed to hold onto his bag that time and that, no, she didn't need to buy another one.

"Hey, Peter!" Aunt May replied. She grinned at her nephew, though Peter wasn't sure if it was a close look or not. Wondered what it was that she saw. He was nervous when they'd gone out to dinner for larb, all her questions made it seem like she was slowly starting to learn about the side of him he was keeping a secret. But her smile was disarming, he didn't think she was any closer than she'd been better. "How was school?"

Peter pressed his hands against the back of the chair closest to him, leaned against it. "Same as always," he said.

"Flash being a real jerk to you again?" Aunt May's nose screwed up in concern. Peter nodded. "You know he's just jealous."

Peter snorted. "Jealous of me? Yeah, right." He had the money, the stuff, the…everything. Peter wasn't one who would say he was particularly good looking himself, would never say much about another person's looks, no matter how beautiful he thought Liz was, but knew there were more than enough girls that seemed to like Flash despite how much he put others down to make himself look better.

"I don't know," Aunt May drawled, turning back to the stove. "I always say some girl would be lucky to have you."

"Yeah, I don't really see a long line of them outside our door." He dropped down into the seat, stretching his legs out beneath the table. He watched her for a few moments before teasingly asking, "Do you think you'll go out with that waiter at the Thai place?"

With her back turned to her nephew, Aunt May shook her head then shook her spoon in the air, letting splatters of spaghetti sauce stick to the front of the stove. "I'd much sooner go out with Tony Stark, and you know how I feel about that."

Peter quelled the disgust that rolled through his stomach. He'd nearly heaved when he saw how outwardly 'Mr. Stark' had been flirting with his Aunt. The idea of them actually going on a date was even worse. "He's engaged, anyway."

"That doesn't really stop men like him."

Peter was about to remind her about Pepper Potts but decided not to. It was bad enough they were talking about her dating life rather than having to even think about it. "There's this new guy at school," Peter said, changing the subject. "Brady Nash, he just moved in next door with his mom."

"That's nice," Aunt May replied. She smiled at her nephew over her shoulder. "It's about time you and Ned found someone else to play with." She then frowned, pointing the spoon at him. "He's not into LEGOs, is he? Because I don't know how many more times I can watch you take your allowance advances and throw it away on those plastic bricks."

"Those are collector's items," Peter reminded her. "They're going to be worth something someday."

"All those bricks?"

"They're fun, Aunt May. And, believe me, it's the least amount of trouble we could get into." Peter grinned and laughed along with his aunt, though a nervous sweat broke out at his temple, wondering if he'd said too much. Or if the look she gave him was a way for her to say, "I know you're Spider-Man, just tell me."

"So, what's this new guy like? Is he nice?"

"Do you think I'd be friends with him if he wasn't nice?" Peter shot back sarcastically. "And I love the fact that you're using that as a basis to figure out whether or not I should hang with him. Mr. Stark is nice, he gave me the shot at the internship, remember."

"That very same internship that has you running around at all hours of the day doing his bidding?"

"You know I go to school, right?"

"I don't have eyes on you all day."

That was true. If she looked up a little bit higher sometimes, then she'd certainly see what he was up to, and what the 'Stark Internship' really was. Peter cleared his throat. "Believe me, my life is very boring."

At that, Aunt May whirled around and pointed her spoon at her nephew once more. "I beg your pardon? I'm the one who's funding this life for you."

Peter held up his hands defensively, eyes growing wide when he realized his faux-pas. "I'm kidding, Aunt May. Promise. I like my life." He then pressed his palms together, sticking out his lower lip. "Please don't kick me out."

"I'm definitely not kicking you out, you're the one who'll deal with the spiders we've got going on around here." Her back was turned, missing the smirk that came across Peter's face at the irony that wasn't lost on him. "So, this new kid, Brady?"

"Yeah, he's real cool," Peter replied. "He moved here from Central City with his mom."

"Whoa, kind of a big move. The mid-west to the city."

"I'm sure there are cities in the mid-west too."

"None like New York."

"That's for sure." Peter folded his arms, wondering what his life would be like if he weren't living in the city. If the alien attack hadn't happened. If he hadn't been there when Iron Man arrived. If his Uncle Ben hadn't died. What would his life be like then? Would he even still be Spider-Man?

Would he have even cared.

"But, yeah, he's cool. Really funny." Peter paused. Obviously, he couldn't say anything about the powers that Brady had or the crime fighting they'd done before. He couldn't say how Brady had to leave Central City due to people finding out his identity as a metahuman, how school wasn't safe for him anymore, how his friends and classmates were slowly being taken away. How he didn't know how much longer it'd be before the same thing happened to him. "He seems to really be comfortable in his own skin." He frowned, realizing how lame it was. Even Aunt May looked at him a little funny. "Um, I'm going to go up to the roof for a little bit."

"Dinner's almost ready."

"I know, it's not going to take too long."

Peter went to his room, being careful to take his backpack with him—of which he deposited by his bed—and climbed out the window, wall climbing until he made it to the roof. The second he reached the top, he pulled off his sweatshirt, goosebumps dotting his arms against the cooler temperature, and used the lip of the roof to propel himself forward in a flip.

The second he landed on his feet, Peter threw himself into a pirouette, snapping his head around to keep himself correctly oriented.

It was something not even Ned knew about him. Peter had taken dance classes—ballet specifically—for a long time. From when he could walk to, well, to when his parents died. It was something he greatly enjoyed but didn't let others know he did. Maybe, it was a way to preserve his parents' memory, maybe it was a way to completely be himself and let go.

But as it was, if anyone looked up at the roof of the apartment building that day, they wouldn't have found Peter sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the building, gently kicking his legs back and forth, striking his heels into the brick beneath him. They wouldn't have seen Spider-Man perched on the corner of the building, watching the city like a hawk, looking for his next criminal to take down.

No, if anyone looked up that night, they would've seen a teenage boy throwing out some of the best pirouettes and leaps he'd ever thrown to an invisible song that only he could hear. He continued to throw his arms in the air, using the momentum to throw himself around and push himself into his next move.

He continued, pushing past the limits of his enhanced abilities until he was dripping with sweat, bent over, hands resting on his knees. He watched as droplets of sweat dropped to the gray concrete, darkening the ground around him in seconds. Peter stood up, brushing his hair back from his forehead, placed his hands on his hips.

Peter titled his head back and looked at the sky, watching the sun dip low beyond the horizon, showing off the best part of New York City.

Where, if anyone wanted to, they could leave a bad day behind and start new the next day. Because, like the setting and rising sun, it was always an end and a new beginning.

Spider-Man was the 'end' of Peter's life, but the beginning of his 'new' life. Just as the death of his parents was the end of his childhood and the death of his Uncle Ben was the end of…something else.

He just had to figure out what his new life was going to be.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, this was a more introspective chapter for Peter, but I really wanted to get into his head about things with him. How he feels about school, how he feels about Spider-Man, how he feels about there being another hero his age he can work with, and his relationship with Aunt May. Sometimes, I wish we could see more of these things in the movies, but ithat's what fanfic is for!

For any inconsistencies people may point out, every time I write a fic that has some sort of plot points from the source material, I always change some things around and by that I mean changing some plot things, changing the order of things, and making it so that it won't be like re-reading the movie exactly and because I like to throw my own stuff in.

Thanks for the support, you guys! I hope you all continue to enjoy, I'm so sorry for the wait on the update.

 **Cheers,**

 **-Riley**


	5. Chapter 5: Jackal

**Chapter Five**

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Miles Warren closed the door behind him as he ducked into his apartment. He'd barely managed to close it when he felt the familiar pain shoot across his brain. With a groan, he crumpled to his knees, pressing his shaking hands to his head.

"Ugh, not now," he grumbled. He pitched forward, pressing his hands to the thin carpet of his apartment. He sucked in a sharp breath, the pain shooting in a lightning bolt down his spine, seizing his muscles as he tried hard to regain control. He lifted his chin, eyes locking on the body that lay silently across from him.

All that, for nothing.

 _Quit fighting it,_ a dry whisper hissed through his head. _You're not strong enough to stop me. We've got work to do!_

Warren nodded, letting out a guttural growl as he released himself to the pressure moving through him. Then he was gone, taken over by the green skinned part of himself that he'd tried hard to keep at bay. Taken over by the side of him that was more violent and ruthless than he could ever imagine he had the possibility of being.

Jackal grinned, his yellow teeth poking out the sides of his mouth as he did so. He curled his hand into a fist, smirking down at the claws that'd formally been fingers, bending and stretching them as he marveled at his new form. Then he lifted his chin and took a closer look at the body that lay quietly on the floor; of Rachel Warren. Jackal didn't have much of an attachment to her, it was easy for him to jump her, place a hand over his mouth, and suffocate her.

Easy for him to watch as her eyes widened in surprise, seeing his appearance for the first time. It was easy to startle her. Anyone who gave up more than eight hours of themselves to a job was bound to be more than exhausted when they got back to their humble abode. A reprieve from having to deal with sniveling, annoying, ungrateful kids all day. Though, if what Rachel said was true, the kids at Midtown weren't so bad—though Flash Thompson sure was difficult to handle at times.

She was so tired when she came into the apartment that she didn't notice his presence in the shadows just beyond the door. Not until he called her name in Miles' voice. It already made her turn in surprise, how long had it been since she'd seen her brother? Then her eyes widened in fear when he reached out and grabbed her, her eyes taking in his appearance seconds before pain caused her to slam her eyes shut, the long nails of his claws digging into the sides of her face.

Blood dribbled the puncture wounds, staining the collar of her pressed white shirt. She was always one of the best dressed, Miles had thought, before Jackal had taken him over completely. The only one who came from the school without appearing as if they'd gone to war with the kids. Now her perfectly pristine pressed blouse was ruined. Jackal had moved his other hand to her mouth, now fully taking over Miles, and held it firm so that her burgeoning scream couldn't release and alert the others of danger.

She didn't struggle long. Long enough that Jackal started to become bored, thought about clawing away at her stomach. But she, finally, suffocated against his palm, body jerking as she struggled to that precious air that was never to come to her. Her eyes dimmed and she fell to the ground, mouth parted in one last attempt to for anything. But she as too far gone by then, he knew.

Her organs were starting to shut down, brain activity all but ceasing within the next few minutes.

It paid to have the other part of himself be a scientist, Jackal mused before leaving the apartment through the nearest window. He had the upper hand when it came to getting away with the murder of someone who was in his way. Disposable. Just a means to the end of what he needed to do. Miles may've worried about her…it was evident from the way he kept her body in the apartment when anyone who was smart enough would've gotten rid of the evidence as soon as it started to stink.

Nevertheless, Miles was a smart one. He understood the consequences of calling the police for a body that was in his apartment. He'd be the first suspect and rightfully so. His fingerprints were all over the place despite it being his sister's humble abode. And the viciousness of the attack, well…could've been an argument.

Now, Jackal reached out his foot and pressed it to the side of Rachel's body. He pushed once, twice, just in case she somehow managed to come back to life. He wouldn't put it past her, if he'd been able to turn back into Miles when warranted, to save himself, maybe she had the same abilities. But, no. She remained dead. Eyes sightless and staring at the ceiling, mouth slack, skin already taught and decomposing.

The stench wasn't a problem yet, he'd kept a window open for that matter alone, but it'd be overpowering soon.

Oh well, Miles could deal with it.

Jackal turned raced through the window left open for him. He tucked his arms and legs into his chest to make sure he made it through the frame then was out in the open air. A grin came to Jackal's face, yellow eyes wide with excitement of a night out on the town.

"Not just on the town, but on the tower," Jackal reminded himself. He landed on a nearby roof and moved to leap off the other end and teetered. His arms wind milled as his legs didn't move. Growling Jackal focused on his quivering muscles, forcing them to move. "Your time's up, Miles. Let me have my fun!"

The tiny amount of sanity Miles still had within Jackal disappeared, locked away in the back of Jackal's brain until he was strong enough to come back. Miles looked forward once more, taking in the view of the abandoned Stark Tower, set them in his sights. Everything he needed was in there and he wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer.

With a superhuman leap, Jackal raced from rooftop to rooftop, working his way toward the beacon that poked up through the New York skyline, arriving only in seconds. He landed along the top floor, glancing around cautiously. It was clearly being abandoned; tarps and plastic covers on almost every surface, and there was the fact that Tony Stark had famously announced that decommissioning of Stark Tower.

Clearly that was a man who didn't mind people—even the wrong people—following his every move considering how often he bragged about himself. Didn't they always warn people be careful what they put out there? It was a wonder Tony hadn't been robbed blind by that point.

Jackal walked over to one of the blown-out windows and looked down over the city. His eyes narrowed as he watched the busy little ants of New York look continue about their day. When they could be struck down as easily as he did Rachel. But where was the fun in that? When they least expected it?

It was better to see the terror up close and personal.

And that's why he was waiting for Spider-Man to show up.

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 **A/N:** Writing from Miles' and Jackals' joint POV definitely was interested. But we get to see the first fight in the next chapter! Thank you for being so patient while I come back to this story every now and then. I do still like my idea, but it's just not my current fandom focus. I'm not giving up on this story, however.

Thanks for the support, you guys! I hope you all continue to enjoy, I'm so sorry for the wait on the update.

 **Cheers,**

 **-Riley**


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